Best Kept Secret
by toumeiillusion
Summary: She grew up thinking her father didn't exist and her mother didn't care about her at all. Even when Maria told her otherwise, she wouldn't believe it. Of course, it's hard to deny something when it looks you right in the eyes. [Twelve Shots of Summer: Trinity Limit]


Rachel fiddled with the locket in her hands, frowning deeply as she tried to open it for the tenth time today. Why her mother would have given her a broken locket, she couldn't figure out. What was the point of carrying around a busted trinket in the first place? Why should she care about it? Her mother seemed to think it was the most important thing in the world, sending it with a note telling her never to lose it, but Rachel couldn't find a single thing about it that seemed worth keeping.

"She probably thinks it's as worthless as I am to her," she muttered under her breath, letting the locket fall into her lap.

"Who thinks you're worthless?"

Rachel turned her head to see a woman at the door, her long dark hair falling loosely over her shoulders and red painted lips curled into a small and fragile smile. She could see the new bruise forming underneath the collar of the woman's dress, something she wished the two of them weren't used to, and made her way over to her.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked coyly, working around giving her a real answer as she moved the collar slightly to the side. "Does it hurt, Maria? Do you need anything for it?"

She shook her head, placing a hand over Rachel's, and sighed out softly. Immediately, she knew it hurt and anger bubbled inside of her. She hated that he did this to her, that James would ever hurt Maria. He was her husband and he was supposed to love her, or at least take care of her, not break her like this. Rachel's eyes narrowed as she looked at the purple and yellow mark.

"I'm fine, Rachel. I promise. But you," Maria started, slipping a finger under the girl's chin and forcing her to look up at her face. "Clearly are not. What happened?"

"The same thing that's been happening for nearly all of my life," Rachel responded dryly. She whipped her head to the side and took a careful step back. She didn't like feeling bitter over her mother but she couldn't help it. The woman had left her with someone else the moment she was born and only occasionally sent letters. Maria insisted that she tried to visit but Rachel couldn't believe that. She would have seen her if she did.

"Oh Rachel…" Maria's face dropped and she looked down to her feet.

"Don't. There's nothing to say that we haven't already said."

Rachel headed back to her seat, one foot colliding with the locket and sending it sliding over the wood floor. Her eyes followed it for a moment before she plopped herself back into the chair. Maria scooped the locket up, running her thumb over the front of it. Her eyes clouded as she gently pressed the sides, trying to open it.

"I wouldn't bother. It hasn't opened since it came in the mail. It may as well be thrown out."

"No, no. You shouldn't toss it. I'm just… Surprised she ever took this off." Maria looked back to Rachel, their eyes connecting. Rachel raised an eyebrow, wondering what she could have meant by a comment like that.

Maria came to her side, taking Rachel's hands in her's, and pressed the locket into her palms. She didn't say anything about why it was important or why she'd be surprised that Rachel's mother wasn't wearing it, only giving her a meaningful look and a smile. Her fingers curled around the cold metal and she sighed.

"If it's so important, then help me put it on. I've been having trouble with the clasp as well."

[]

Never in her life had Rachel imagined she would be face to face with the man who fought against so many obstacles and trashed his own reputation just to keep his name clear. She never would have dreamed that he'd be looking at her with wide brown eyes and a stunned expression. He looked disheveled, like he hadn't been sleeping well and hadn't the energy to take care of himself. His hair, graying, fell just slightly into his face as he looked down at her.

"You look… So much like your mother," he said softly.

A million thoughts swam through her head, confusion clouding each and everyone one of them. She knew the man was Alexander Hamilton. She recognized him, often seeing him walking around New York in a trance. She knew that Maria knew him, somehow, and asked him to meet with her, though she didn't know why. She knew that something was happening, something important, but she didn't know what it could have been.

"How do you know who my mother is?" Rachel inquired, brushing a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. She was finding hard to look him in the eye, she noticed. Something about them was too familiar and too intense for her to handle. It felt almost like a mirror.

"Mrs. Reynolds… Told me. I was, am, her friend."

Rachel gave him a skeptical look. If he was her mother's friend, wouldn't he have known about her before? Even if she didn't know her mother well, she could guess that she would have said something, anything, about having a child. It wasn't really news you kept from anyone.

"I see… May I ask why we're meeting, Mr. Hamilton? All I know is that Maria arranged this."

Hamilton's eyes seemed to glaze over as he tried to come up with a reason Rachel was beginning to think might not even exist. It wouldn't be the first time Maria had done something outlandish because she thought there was a chance it would somehow help her someday. _To be fair_ , Rachel thought, _it's not like she's ever been wrong._

"I haven't the slightest clue, actually, but I did say I would do this."

"Your obligation is fulfilled then. We've met. Unless there's something you wish to say, then we should part ways. You must be a busy man and you don't have the time to waste on a twelve-year-old girl." Rachel stood to leave, gently brushing down her skirts and straightening the gloves on her hands.

"Wait."

Her eyes trailed over to him, watching as he quickly moved towards her and reached to take her hand. Even through the fabric she could feel that he was warm and, somehow, familiar. Rachel's gaze lingered on his ink stained hand covering her's.

"What is it, Mr. Hamilton?"

"Your mother. How is she? It's been years since I last heard from her. She didn't… Pass… Did she?"

Rachel's head snapped up to look him in the eyes, surprise washing over her. Her mother hadn't even written to her friends. She wasn't only shrugging off her child, she was ignoring everyone. Part of her was relieved, thinking that it wasn't just her that was a problem, but a better part of her was angry. She was looking at a man who clearly cared about her mother's well-being and her mother had never bothered to speak with him.

"No. She's alive. I know nothing else, though. She doesn't write me. I'm honestly shocked she writes Maria as often as she does. I would suppose she's doing fine."

"That's good… I'm glad she's well."

Silence lingered between them as they searched for something else to say until Rachel took a step back. "I should really be going. Like I said, you're a busy man and I'm a-"

"Twelve-year-old I shouldn't waste my time on? I wouldn't have agreed to meet you if I thought that. I decide what a waste of my time is," Hamilton finished. He gave her a soft smile and came to her side.

"But if you are so set on leaving, I suppose I'll just have to walk you home, won't I?"

[]

"I don't have a father."

Hamilton stopped dead in his tracks and stared down at her. It made sense, to be honest, since she was staying with Maria instead of her mother. If Rachel had a father then he surely would have taken her. Yet, he couldn't think of anyone who could have been a father to her. He knew her mother well, almost too well. He was sure she hadn't even been married when they were in touch. With Rachel's age, she would have had to have been with someone.

"Mr. Hamilton?"

He thought about it using all of his brain power. Was there anyone she had ever mentioned having affection for? Was there someone she could have been with in some fit of passion? She wasn't the type for going into anything without thinking it through, she'd only done that a handful of times that he could count with just his hands. She would have had to have known the man for some time.

"Mr. Hamilton, are you alright?"

Hamilton looked at her, staring down each feature on her face. She definitely had her mother's eyes, they were the exact same shades of blue and green. Rachel's cheeks were as pudgy as he remembered her's being and she had the same dimples when she smiled. They had different skin tones, however. He remembered her being very light, pale even though she spent so much time outdoors with him, but Rachel had more browned complexion. She looked like some odd cross of his mother and Rachel's.

His mother.

"Oh my god…"

"What's wrong? Mr. Hamilton?"

[]

"Does she know? Maria, does she-"

"Of course she _knows_ , Alexander! How could she not? She's never loved anyone but you and it's not like she made a habit of sleeping with anyone. She knew the moment it happened. She was going to tell you but then…"

"Then everyone came back from upstate and she suddenly had to leave… I am such an idiot."

"That doesn't even begin to describe it."

Rachel leaned against the wall for support, her head spinning. Alexander Hamilton was her father. _Alexander_ _Hamilton_ was her _father_. All this time she had thought her father was dead or the one that left but it had always been her mother and her father was always right there. Neither of them had known. No one knew but Maria and her mother.

Tears welled up in Rachel's eyes. She felt betrayed. If Maria knew all this time, why didn't she tell her? She let her grow up without parents, without ever knowing what it felt like for a father to praise her or protect her, never knowing what it felt like for a mother to kiss her head or hold her while she cried. She'd never gotten to dance with them, or be taught by them, or even have them watch with pride as she stumbled through playing piano. If Maria had just said something, even hinted that her father was around, she could have had even a little bit of that.

Instead she had to grow up on her own.

A hand flew to the locket around her neck and yanked it off, breaking the chain. It hurt but Rachel couldn't find it in herself to care. She wanted it gone. With an angry growl, she threw it to the floor and slid down the wall.

"I hate you," she muttered through a sob. "If you weren't going to care for me why did you even have me? Why didn't you all just let me die?"

The door creaked open beside her and she buried her head into her skirts. She didn't want to be seen, she wanted to disappear completely. She didn't want her supposed father to try and make excuses, she didn't want Maria to try and comfort her, and she didn't want her mother to just suddenly appear and try to be a part of her life. She wanted silence.

"I am so sorry."

"Go away, Mr. Hamilton. Just leave me be. You don't have to try and pretend to be a father to me now. Not when you don't even know me."

She heard him shift and felt him sitting beside her on the floor. His arm wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her in. She found she couldn't fight it. Despite his age, he was still plenty stronger than she was. Her head hit his shoulder and he put his head on top of her's.

"Shhhh… I know. Life has been pretty unfair to you. We aren't making it any better. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you. I didn't get to see your first steps, I didn't hear your first words. I didn't even get to help choose your name. I don't know much of anything about you yet." Hamilton paused, his head leaving her's, and he lifted her face to look at him, wiping away tears with a small, sad smile.

"But, I have the chance and the will to start learning."

Rachel looked up at him. "Why?"

"Because you deserve the chance to meet your father."

Rachel pulled away from him, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands. All of her anger was slowly washing out and leaving her tired. She realized she didn't have to say that it was all okay. She could deny him if she wanted to. She had lasted for twelve years without any real parents. She didn't need them at this point. She was already grown up enough.

But she wanted them. Even if it was only one.

"…Okay," she said softly. "We can try…"

Hamilton smiled a bit wider and ruffled her hair. A short laugh made its way out of her. It felt weird but it wasn't something she found unpleasant. As he moved his hand away, her eyes traveled over to the locket on the ground. Hamilton followed her gaze, leaning forward and delicately picking it up from the ground.

"I remember this," he muttered, rubbing it with his thumb. "She used to stare at in the in window every time we passed by it. Your mother always loved things like this. It was the only thing I ever got to give her."

"Oh… And I threw it on the ground… I'm sorry."

"You didn't know. It's alright." Hamilton fiddled with the lock on the side, wiggling it around before pressing down and pushing it open at the same time.

"I see it still sticks, too."

Rachel leaned over a little, looking at the inside of the locket. It looked plain, not even having a picture on the inside, until she squinted. It was hard to see but it was definitely engraved.

"What does it say…?"

"Oh, nothing much. It was just the first words she ever said to me."

"Hmm?" Rachel looked back up at him, tilting her head to the side. Hamilton handed to locket back over to her, leaving it open for her to see, and closed his eyes.

"Would you mind if I painted you?"


End file.
